Second Chances Part 2
by phoenixtimes
Summary: Patsy rides home alone...


The cold air slapped Patsy in the face as she left 'The London'. She hadn't expected it to be so dark. But supposed that she had been talking to Mrs Busby for a while; ironing out the details of Delia's future care. A shiver crept down her neck and back. 'I must purchase a new scarf,' thought Patsy. She had been unable to wear her last one; even after it was returned to her by Sister Winifred. Delia's scent clung to the scarf and Patsy had wanted to hold on to that little bit of Delia until the bitter end. In light of their current situation she rather wished she had picked it up as she left Nonnatas that morning. Pulling up the collar of her brown tweed jacket she bounced down the stairs. Her bicycle was still leaning against the railing. 'Thank goodness,' thought Patsy. 'I doubt the nuns would be too thrilled with me losing a second bicycle after the accident wrecked my first.' She untangled the handle-bars from the railing, they must have gotten caught in her haste to enter the hospital, and lifted her leg up and over the cross bar. Gripping the handle-bars tightly she took a deep breath in; letting the freezing, night air expand her lungs. Euphoria took over her. A single tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek. For the first time in a long time she wept tears of relief and joy.

The journey back to Nonnatas seemed a great deal longer without the exhaustive weight of losing Delia forcing Patsy to peddle fast. The scene from 'The London' replayed over and over in her mind. The smell of lilac flooded her senses when Delia embraced her. She had waited for that embrace for so long that, at first, she was completely taken aback. When they finally parted Patsy gazed into Delia's eyes. The stranger, she had come to care for, was still there but Patsy could make out a hint of Her Delia hidden behind them. Delia remembered her nickname and their embrace; for now that was enough to give Patsy hope. She steered Delia over to the family waiting benches in the corridor and helped her sit down. Delia's mother looked horrified. 'She barely remembers me and her father,' stuttered Mrs Busby. 'How is it that she remembers you?' Patsy wanted to say that she had an intense connection with her daughter and loved her like a man loves his wife. Instead she whispered, 'I...I...I don't know.' Mrs Busby was quiet for several minutes. Patsy, although desperate to cut the silence, left her to come to terms with what she had witnessed. Delia stared at Patsy with the same searching look that she had had moments before with the ticket stub before letting her good hand drop down to her side and find Patsy's index finger. She tightly wrapped her hand around Patsy's finger, as if it was a common occurrence. Patsy reasoned that it must have felt like a reflex reaction to Delia, which had to be a good sign. After months of hiding their relationship and masking their touches, Patsy felt very self conscious with this public display of affection. Mrs Busby hadn't noticed, thankfully, and was continuing her silence. Eventually Patsy decided to break it.

'Mrs Busby...' Patsy whispered cautiously.

'Yes,' replied the woman sharply.

'What shall we do about this situation now? I understand that we agreed Delia was best to return to Wales but you have to agree this changes matters somewhat dramatica...'

Mrs Busby cut Patsy off.

'This does nothing of the sort. Delia is my daughter and I believe the best place for her is with her family back home in Wales. She'll remember us soon enough. Won't you cariad?'

Delia turned her gaze from Patsy to her mother. She tilted her head slightly and sighed.

'I want to stay here,' she stated confidently.

'You can't, cariad,' frowned Mrs Busby. 'You have you come home with your father and I, where your memory can fully form. Patsy doesn't know you well enough for that to happen.'

Patsy looked devastated. 'If only she knew the truth,' she thought.

'I want to stay here,' Delia said again, this time a little more forcefully.

Having stayed out of the argument out of respect for Delia's mother, Patsy could hold back no longer.

'Mrs Busby. I completely agree that Delia's memory might eventually come back at home but we must be realistic. It might not. You can see she has become more of herself in the past ten minutes than she has in the past ten days. If I were to find us a flat to share, where she would be surrounded by the friends she has made in London and familiar places, she would have a qualified nurse living with her 24/7. She could accompany me on daily routines and it might eventually come back to her. Please let me try, Mrs Busby. I know you want your daughter back...but I want my Deels back.'

Patsy shivered as the wind picked up around her ears. She was barely concentrating on where she was going. Her bicycle was on autopilot. She could not believe her luck. Delia was coming home. They were going to have the life they had planned. Patsy was under no illusions. She knew it would be a difficult journey but she was more than ready to embark on it. As long as Delia was there to hold her hand, like she had earlier in the hospital.

Mrs Busby held her head in her hands. Patsy could tell she was in complete turmoil over which scenario would be best for her daughter.

'Ok,' Mrs Busby relented from behind her hands.

'Ok?' mimicked Patsy.

'Ok,' repeated Mrs Busby. 'Delia can stay here. You are right, Patsy. She would not receive the same care with us as she would living with a trained nurse. However, I understand you are living back in your original housing with the sisters?'

Patsy nodded.

'I think Delia would benefit from being in her own environment not one surrounded by God.'

Patsy nodded again.

'So I will take Delia home with me today, where she may pick up some childhood memories and recuperate from her superficial injuries. In the meantime you can begin to look for appropriate lodgings. Once you have found them you may send a letter advising us of the situation and we shall accompany Delia on her return to London.'

Patsy cycled under the bridge and pulled up at the foot of the stairs leading to Nonnatas House. 'Can't say fairer than that,' she thought. 'I must begin the house hunt first thing in the morning.'

Patsy heaved open the great door of Nonnatas House and stepped inside. She could hear chattering and giggling coming towards her. She closed the door quietly behind her and ascended the stairs. The weight of the day was beginning to slip from her shoulders and she was feeling exhausted. She couldn't quite place who the phantom voices belonged to when Trixie and Barbara appeared in front of her at the top of the stairs.

'There you are,' said Trixie gleefully. 'We've been ever so worried about you. But you seem happy? Are you happy?'

'Ecstatic,' replied Patsy and she meant it.

'Jolly good,' chimed Barbara. 'Trixie and I were just heading out to the picture house. I heard the new Doris Day film is just perfect. We were going to drool over her costumes. Do you want to join?'

'Sorry ladies, but I am rather exhausted. It's been an eventful day and I could really do with an early night tonight.' Patsy was finding it difficult to contain her glee. She was desperate to tell someone exactly what had happened. It still didn't seem completely really and she so wanted to share her news with her closest friends. Instead she apologised again and retreated to her bedroom.

Trixie and Barbara watched her as she practically skipped up the remaining stairs and along the corridor to her bedroom. They looked at each other quizzically.


End file.
